


Changes

by HPFandom_archivist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Explicit Language, M/M, Romance, Sexual Content, Slash, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-03-20
Updated: 2005-03-19
Packaged: 2018-09-30 05:34:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10154996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HPFandom_archivist/pseuds/HPFandom_archivist
Summary: Ron returns to London after a four year absence and Harry sees him in a whole new light.  Written in three parts.





	1. Reunion

**Author's Note:**

> Note from SeparatriX, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [HP Fandom](http://fanlore.org/wiki/HP_Fandom_\(archive\)), which was closed for health and financial reasons. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2016. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [HP Fandom collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/hpfandom/profile).

**_Part One - Reunion_ **

Some change comes slowly. You live your life, making minor decisions that lead you into something that becomes life altering, and when you get there, you look back and wonder how it all happened.

Things like that don’t happen to me. The changes in my life always come suddenly and without warning. They hit me like a lightening bolt and leave me wandering around confused in their aftermath. 

My life has had many extreme changes. One minute, I had two parents who loved me and then, with two flicks of a wrist, they were gone. 

For eleven years, I lived with a family that emotionally abused me. I had no friends, spent all of my free time cleaning and picking up after them, and my bedroom was a nothing more than a cupboard under the stairs. Then on my eleventh birthday, I was told that I was a Wizard and my parents weren’t killed in a car crash, a lie that my Aunt and Uncle had told me, but were killed by a Dark Wizard, Lord Voldemort. 

Voldemort had come to our house to kill me, but my parents sacrificed themselves trying to save me. Somehow, I survived. Soon after, I left to attend Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

That is where I met my best friend, Ron Weasley, and in an instant, I went from friendless to having the best friend anyone could ever want. Then with the help of an ugly troll, we bonded with Hermione Granger, my current flat mate. She was a tad bit annoying, always on about books and schoolwork, but we loved her anyway.

My first six years at Hogwarts were filled with friends, laughter, and learning. Along with death, destruction, and heartache. I had been abducted, cursed, bitten by a poisonous basilisk, and cut for my blood so Voldemort could become human again. And that wasn’t the worst of it, in my fifth year, I watched my godfather die and learned of a prophecy that made it very clear I had to kill Voldemort or he would kill me.

Needless to say, I was an emotional basket-case. I threw a pity party and I was the guest of honor. I wrapped myself in a blanket of teenage angst and shut out anyone who gave a damn about me.

As much as I tried to push them away, Ron and Hermione refused to budge and I responded by giving them little tidbits of me. Not enough to let them in, but enough so they would stop bugging me. It’s amazing that our friendship survived.

For the better part of my teenage years, I believed I wasn’t going to live to see my eighteenth birthday. Then one day - it all changed.

Evidently, the whole prophecy thing was a bunch of rubbish. I didn’t kill Lord Voldemort. He is dead, but it wasn’t by my hands. It was an inside job. Really, this isn’t a joke. His army of freaks, the Death Eaters, became real tired of him and his obsession with me. They had signed on for power and wealth, but all they were doing was chasing some skinny, teenager that kept kicking this so-called powerful Wizard’s arse. 

In April of my seventh year, the rebels summoned him to the Forbidden Forest under the delusion that they had captured me. However, at the time, I was really in a broom closet getting an unbelievable blowjob. He showed up and they killed him. It took eight of them to do it, three of them died, but they did it.

If I hadn’t been caught up in the moment of getting my cock sucked, maybe I would’ve felt it or been aware that something had changed. I had no idea until the next day. There we were sitting in Advanced Potions waiting for Snape to show up and when he did, it was to inform us that Voldemort had been found dead. He was dead all right. They let me see his body that was lying a few meters away from his head. Then they burned the body and his head and I watched. 

They tried to explain to me how the Death Eaters did it; charms were cast on their Death Marks and they used potions to shut him out of their minds. I was too stunned to try to understand how it had happened.

Those loyal to Voldemort started a war against those that had killed him and, soon after, the Death Eaters destroyed themselves. Those that survived were easy for the Aurors to capture and were sent to prison.

And that was that! I went from _The Boy Who Lived_ to a normal teenage boy. 

Well, I guess that depends on your definition of normal. See, another thing that happened in my seventh year was that I went into the closet. Often… and with another boy.

Draco Malfoy, to be exact. He was the son of an imprisoned Death Eater and my enemy. I hated him and he hated me. Yes, I am aware that it was sick and twisted, but damn did it feel fucking good. It started soon after we returned to school that year. He caught me in the hallway after hours and tried to pull his ‘I-have-power-prefect’ shit on me. I took a swing at him, missed, and we wound up rolling on the floor with his erection pressing into my thigh. I bit his neck and the next thing I knew we were grinding against each other until we both came. The following moments were awkward, but not enough to keep me from being in the same spot, at the same time, the next night.

The second time we moved to the broom closet and sucked each other off. The third time, I fucked him. The fourth night, we kissed for the first time and then I fucked him again. That’s how it went for months and the sex just kept getting better. There was no love, and to be honest, no like either. It was exciting to fuck a future Death Eater. I never knew what it did for him to let me stick my dick in him. I really didn’t care. 

We didn’t meet every night. I would start to think about how sad it was that I was shagging someone I loathed and I’d stay away for a few nights. Then my teenage hormones would kick in and I’d be back in the broom closet with my pants around my ankles and hating myself for it.

When Voldemort died, so did our shagging sessions. It just didn’t seem all that exciting anymore.

Everything had changed, even my scar. After his death, it started to fade. It’s still there, but unless you know it’s there, it isn’t noticeable. One day I had a destiny and the next I was free to do whatever I wanted. 

I took my N.E.W.T.s, passed them all with no problem, and was offered a job as an Auror. I promptly turned it down. Ron didn’t and became an Auror apprentice. Hermione went to work as an editor for Whizzhard books and her first assignment was an updated edition of History of Hogwarts. We thought she was annoying before!

When word got out that I wasn’t becoming an Auror, every Quidditch team in the England and Ireland leagues tried to recruit me as their seeker. I held out for England’s National Team. They made me an offer, but only as a reserve seeker. 

Six months after I joined the team, the starting seeker was knocked off his broom and permanently injured. I was called in for the rest of the match. I caught the Snitch within five minutes to end a game that had gone on for twelve hours. The next season, I led England to their first of three World Cups and became known as England’s Premier Seeker. 

I love Quidditch. It’s the only thing in my life that I feel passionate about. I forget who I am when I’m in the air looking for the Snitch, my past is irrelevant and my future doesn’t matter, and each time I catch the Snitch it feels like I’m catching it for the first time. 

Fame is a funny thing. I hated it once. I’m still not completely comfortable with it, but it’s a part of me that I don’t think I could live without. At least now, it’s for something that I’ve achieved on my own and most reporters stopped mentioning my connection to Voldemort. Occasionally, a new reporter will make mention of it and Hermione will have a fit. She’ll immediately call one of her contacts in the publishing world to let the reporter know that the subject is off-limits.

Hermione might nag me to death, but she’s been my friend through all of the bad times. If it wasn’t for her, I often wonder where I would be. Living with her has stopped me from becoming a total arsehole. She steps in when I start to take things too far, whether it is men, drinking, or staying in bed too long. Knowing that she is here to watch what I’m doing helps keep me in line. 

I told Hermione and Ron that I was gay on my 18th birthday. They weren’t shocked. Their lack of shock sure shocked the hell out of me. I didn’t think I was that obvious about it. I’m not a fem or anything! They swore it was only because they knew me so well. 

I didn’t tell them about Malfoy that night. I told Hermione in a drunken stupor a few years ago. She didn’t talk to me for a week. When she did begin speaking to me, she insisted that I tell Ron.

“Ron deserves to know! The way Malfoy treated him all those years and YOU go and have sex with him!”

“It didn’t mean anything. I’ve explained that!” I spat at her.

“That makes it worse!” she screamed back.

She was right. Ron deserved to know. I’m sure he was more than happy that I didn’t share my sex life with him, but this was Malfoy. There was a history there. I did tell him, but much later.

Ron never asked me if I thought about shagging him. Of course, I had THOUGHT about it, but the thought made me feel icky all over. Ron was like a brother to me and he really wasn’t the type of bloke I was attracted to. There was no unrequited love between us. No private wanking sessions in the showers thinking about his ginger head bobbing up and down on my cock. I loved him, but he wasn’t my type. It was that simple.

Coming out was difficult, but I had grown accustomed to being different. My Quidditch mates are okay with it. Some of the players on the other teams will crack the occasional joke, but my teammates are quick to come to my defense and pound their faces into the mud.

The gay Wizard community is small, so mostly I date muggles. 

“Date! You don’t date, Harry Potter! Dating implies that you will be in the person's presence more than once!” Hermione yells at me every chance she gets.

I can’t help it. The type of men I like to fuck, aren’t the type I like to spend a whole lot of time with and the type of men I like to spend time with, aren’t the type I like to fuck.

It’s sorry to say, but Draco was the longest relationship I ever had. The second lasted a month and was with a Wizard from France that played Quidditch for the Quiberon Quafflepunchers. It was nice while it lasted, but he wanted more and I didn’t. He stops to visit me when he’s in town, but we don’t get physical. I don’t like complicated. 

I like men… Beautiful, strong, and sexy men. I’m 24 years old. I’m horny. There is nothing wrong with that.

Hermione says I’m a slut. I’m not, but can’t convince her otherwise. I won’t deny that I have a very healthy sex life, but I don’t sleep with just anybody. I can understand what it looks like from Hermione’s perspective. She's the one that has to live with me and my nocturnal guests.

When we left school, Hermione and I got a flat together near Diagon Alley, so she would be close to work. Ron moved in with Fred and George. We knew it had to do with money. Our flat was expensive and Ron was not making much as an Apprentice. We didn’t push the issue, because we knew how he was about that sort of thing.

Slowly, things started to change. I was out of town a lot with the team and Ron would spend week’s away training with the Aurors. We hardly saw each other. Then shortly after Ron’s twenty-first birthday, he became a full-fledged Auror and he accepted an assignment in Ireland. He eventually met a woman there and moved in with her.

After he left, I didn’t see him for four years. We were scheduled to see each other after a match in Ireland, but I was hit by a Bludger and spent the night unconscious. He came home for Christmas two years ago, but he owled me too late and I had already made plans to go to Hogwarts to see Dumbledore and Hagrid for Christmas.

Everyone missed him. No one understood why he left. I did. He had a destiny, too. It was intertwined with mine and he lost his when I lost mine. I’m sure no one in Ireland took one look at him and knew he was a Weasley. He needed to become his own person and I understood that. 

We stayed in touch through owls, but the letters were brief, and I spent time with the Weasley’s when I could. He said he missed us, but never talked about moving back home. Until one day, almost a month before his twenty-fifth birthday, his owl flew in our window with a letter.

_My friends,_

_She left me. Was granted a reassignment in London. Coming home soon. Keep Pig with you, until I get there._

_See you soon,_

_Ron_

Typical Ron! No exact day or time when he would show up. We had no idea when he sent the letter or how long it took Pig to deliver it. Waiting for him drove Hermione mental. She was out of her mind with excitement that he was coming home. I just sat back and listened to her natter on about how much she missed him.

“Don’t you miss him?” she asked me with that Hermione look on her face.

“Sure, I do,” I said casually.

“Admit it!” she snapped.

“Admit what?”

“You miss him more than you let on.”

“I just said I missed him,” I sighed.

“Are you going to tell him how it made you feel when he left?”

“Hermione, I may like men, but it does not mean I’m a woman. I don’t enjoy sitting around talking about my feelings for hours. Ron knows I missed him.”

“Does he?”

“Of course, he does!” I yelled.

That was a lie. I didn’t know if he knew how much I missed him, but it was a conversation that I didn’t want to have. It would lead to other things. I would tell him that I felt abandoned when he left. He would tell me that he felt betrayed when I turned down becoming an Auror. I would tell him that I felt too much pressure from him when we were at school and so on and so on.

I had missed him more than I admitted to myself. Over the years, I stopped myself from dwelling on it. I understood why he left, but it didn’t mean that I hadn’t wished he had stayed.

Hermione owled Ginny every day asking if she Ron had showed up at the Burrow, until one day, I was in the shower and I heard Hermione screaming in our living room. I didn’t even bother drying off. I wrapped a towel around my waist and ran out to see Ron standing there with Hermione in his arms. 

I knew he was coming home. He had said so. Maybe I didn’t believe it until I saw him there, because I was almost speechless. All I could say was his name. Ron. 

When he saw me, he let go of Hermione and I took her spot between his arms. As we gave each other the customary guy pats on the back, I was surprised at how good it felt to have his arms around me. It was warm, comforting, and new. I don’t remember ever feeling that way before when I hugged him. I tried to think back to the last time I hugged him and I couldn’t remember. 

I don’t know if we were hugging longer than we should have, but Hermione pushed me out of the way and started gushing all over him again.

That was when I was able to get a good look at him. When he left, he was only beginning to fill out his 6’3” frame. He had grown so tall, so fast, that it was taking awhile for the rest of him to catch up with his height. Sometime in the last four years, it caught up with him and it was hard to imagine he was ever considered gangly. 

He was wearing a black jumper, jeans, and black boots. His legs and arms were thick and muscular, but not those horrible, over the top muscles that are built from working out too much. I could see that these were muscles developed naturally. 

His hair was shaggy and fell below his collar and some of his freckles had faded. I could hardly believe this man standing in front of me was the Ron I had known for so many years. He was sexy as hell and he was my best friend. I had to shake my head to remind myself of that. He may not look like the Ron that I knew, but he was still just Ron. Straight - heterosexual - Ron.

Hermione was firing questions at him and not giving him time to answer them.

“When did you get back? Did you see your Mum and Dad yet? What happened with that woman? How long are you staying?”

Ron grinned at her and waited for her to give him a chance to speak.

When she finally ran out of questions, she said, “Don’t you have anything to say?”

“Yeah. I was wondering when Harry was going to excuse himself and put some clothes on,” he said looking at me and then he gave a hearty, deep laugh.

I blushed. Hermione must’ve noticed my red face, because she shot me a questioning look.

I told them not to talk about anything significant while I was gone, hurried to my bedroom, threw on jeans and a t-shirt, went back and found them in the kitchen. Hermione was making tea and telling Ron about her finance, Philip. 

Philip is a writer for the Daily Prophet and a great bloke. He is very laid-back and perfect for hyper-intense Hermione. She was trying to get Ron to commit to meeting him tomorrow.

I sat across from Ron and he gave me a grin and a wink. He didn’t have to say anything I knew the look well. ‘It’s Hermione being Hermione. We love her anyway.’

Hermione placed our tea on the table and sat down. 

“Did you see your parents yet?”

“Yeah, I figured I’d get Mum’s screaming out of the way first. It’s not over, but at least now she’s hugging me between her rants.”

“What happened with that woman?” she said with a slight emphasis on woman.

“Meghan. We just wanted different things,” he said shrugging his shoulders.

“Like what?”

“Hermione,” I interjected. “Leave him alone.”

“It’s okay, Harry. She wanted to get married. I didn’t.” He paused and then added trying to hide a grin. “One thing we agreed on was she didn’t want to catch me in our bed with someone else. But she did.”

“Ronald! Honestly!” Hermione snapped and gave him arm a whack on his upper-arm.

“I love it,” I said laughing. “Ron, I’m begging you. Please stay with us while you are here! Maybe, she’ll leave me alone!”

“How long are you staying?” Hermione asked while glaring at me.

“Indefinitely. I have two weeks off and then I’ll join the Aurors assigned to the London area.”

“Move in with us,” she said. It sounded more like an order than a request.

“I really want to get my own place,” he replied firmly.

“Stay here until you do,” I said. “I don’t have any matches or practices until the first of March. We can hang out and I’ll help you look for a place to stay.”

“That’ll be great, but you’re the one that has to tell Mum. She invited you to dinner tomorrow night. The whole family will be there.”

Hermione didn’t give me a chance to reply. 

“We’ll be there! Now tell me, why did you decide to come home?”

“It just seemed like the right time. Actually, I probably should’ve come home two years ago.”

“Why didn’t you?” she retorted.

“I don’t know. I guess I was afraid everyone had moved on with their lives and I wouldn’t be able to fit back in,” he said sheepishly.

Oh Merlin! I started to think maybe Ron should’ve been the one that moved in with Hermione and I was the one that should’ve left. Hermione ate the whole thing up! The two of them started talking about how much they missed each other. She kept reassuring him that we all missed him and wanted him back in our lives. I didn’t say a word.

When the lovefest was over, Ron told us he had to get some stuff he left at the Burrow and promised to come back for dinner. Hermione had a date with Philip, but said she would pick up some take-out for us.

Dinner alone with Ron was great. We talked about Quidditch and England’s chances to win another World Cup. He told me that he had stayed on top of my career and that he still hadn’t forgiven me for not joining the Chudley Canons. 

He told me about his life in Ireland and his job as an Auror. He replayed stories of capturing bands of Wizards that were practicing the Dark Arts. His specialty had become searching and retaining artifacts that were used in Dark Arts rituals. It had taken him to different parts of the world, Africa, Russia, and the Americas. For the first time since I knew Ron, he spoke of himself with pride.

When we finished eating, Ron went to our guest bedroom and came back with a bottle of Firewhiskey. We left the dishes and moved into the living room. We talked about old times at school and the Burrow. We doubled over with laugher while we reminisced about Fred and George’s dramatic exit from Hogwarts.

We finished the bottle, I found a bottle of vodka, and we started on that.

“So, how are you really?” he asked me very seriously when we were half way through the bottle of vodka.

“Okay, can’t complain,” I replied.

“No, you never did.”

“What’s that mean?” I asked cautiously.

“Nothing.”

The room had suddenly gotten very quiet. Ron was studying the back of the back vodka.

After a few minutes, he broke the silence. “What about your love life?”

“Has Hermione been talking to you?” I asked suspiciously.

“No. It’s a valid question. I told you about mine.”

“Was it love? With that woman. Meghan, right?”

“Yeah, Meghan. Dunno. Thought it was… in the beginning.”

“Oh, sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry about. She’s more sorry than I am,” he said sounding a bit guilty. “How about you? Have you ever been in love?”

Him and Hermione spent entirely too much time together in those years I was off feeling sorry for myself.

“No, don’t think I have,” I said picking at my thumb nail and glaring at it intently as if it held all of the world's answers.

“Not even with the person you were shagging seventh year?”

BLOODY HELL! I had no idea that he knew!

“What? How did you know I was shagging someone?” I said defensively.

“I’m not daft! Hell, Harry, you came back to our room looking and smelling like sex.”

I was desperately trying to not meet his eyes. I knew I had to tell him. If I didn’t, my omission would become a lie.

“No, it wasn’t love. Far from it.”

He didn’t say anything and I knew he was staring at me, waiting for more. I told him and he reacted exactly as I expected.

“What the fuck, Harry? Malfoy!” he yelled, moving to the edge of his seat.

“Yeah, Malfoy.”

“He was your first?”

“Yes.”

“Fuck! And you weren’t in love with him?”

“NO! I didn’t even like him! You know that!”

“Then why?” he asked sounding sad.

“It was just sex.”

“Do you hate yourself that much?” Ron’s face had become deadly serious and his eyes were filled with concern.

“What?”

“Do you hate yourself that much that you don’t think you deserve to have sex with someone that cares about you?” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Yes, you do.”

“Ron, please. I get this rubbish from Hermione all the time. I don’t need it from you, too.”

“It’s not rubbish. Just people who care about you.”

“I’m doing fine. Malfoy was a long time ago.”

“Hermione did say that you date a lot. Not the term she used, but I’m being polite. All those men and no one you could love?”

“No, I guess not.” He was making me feel uncomfortable and I began squirming in my chair.

“Did you ever give them a chance?”

“Oh, for Merlin’s sake!” I shouted. “You’re the one that got caught shagging another woman in the bed you shared with your girlfriend!”

I was angry and confused. I had no idea why he was attacking me. I stormed off into the kitchen to clean up our dinner plates. He was not acting like my best mate.  
He was acting like Hermione!

He followed me into the kitchen and apologized. He told me it had been overwhelming to see me again and then finding out about Malfoy had thrown him. I begged him to drop the subject. We took out our wands and began to clean the kitchen. 

“So, what do you do for fun around here?” he asked.

I thought of what Hermione’s response would be if she had heard him ask that question and I broke out in a fit of laughter. When he saw the wicked look on my face, he started to laugh, too.

“I guess that’s getting a little too personal,” he chuckled.

Then it happened. I was reaching over him to pick up our plates, our arms grazed, and I felt it. A surge of sexual energy coursed through my veins, landed in my stomach, and lit it on fire. It took me completely by surprise.

I think he felt it, too. His ears had turned pink and he fumbled over his clean-up spell. 

The next time I touched him, it was intentional, and he began babbling about wanting to relax and enjoy his vacation. However, I had other things in mind. I had decided that I was going to seduce my best friend. Seduction was something I was very good at. True, I had never tried to seduce a straight man before, but if what I felt was right then he was open to the idea. 

For the first time in thirteen years, I had fallen asleep after wanking off to a fantasy about Ron. My head was filled with visions of a naked Ron bound to my bed while I ran my tongue over his tight, sweaty body. Nibbling at his flesh as he begged me to suck his cock. Feeling him squirm as I teased him by licking everywhere except where he wanted me to the most. I came when my fantasy Ron screamed my name as my lips finally grazed the head of his cock.

**Part 1 of 3**


	2. Seduction

  
Author's notes: Ron returns to London after a four year absence and Harry sees him in a whole new light.  


* * *

**_Part Two - Seduction_ **

Ron and I spent almost every waking moment together while he was staying with us. I made sure to show him a good time. We shopped in Diagon Alley. We visited Hogwarts and attended the Hufflepuff/Gryffindor Quidditch match. I brought him to England’s Quidditch practice pitch for some flying. He loved that and after flying, we went to a Pub where many of the players from the Chudley Canons hang out and I introduced him to the players. 

Every opportunity I had to touch him, a pat on the shoulder, a grazing of hands, or a bumping of knees, I took. The more time I spent with him, the stronger I felt the attraction. By the end of the second week, we didn’t even need to touch. He only needed to walk in the room and I could feel the sexual tension tighten my chest and knot my stomach.

I examined his face for any sign that he was feeling something, too. If he was, I couldn’t tell. I began to think he simply wasn’t interested and that only made me want him more.

It came to me suddenly that I needed him to think about me in a sexual way. The opportunity presented itself one night when he went out drinking with Fred, George, and Bill. I declined their offer and went to one of my usual hangouts looking for a partner for the night. Hermione was staying at Philip’s overnight, so I wouldn’t have to worry about her interference. 

I stayed at the club until I knew Ron would be home and asleep. I found a hot, young Wizard that I had seen around Diagon Alley and asked him back to my flat. It had to be a Wizard, because I needed to cast a spell in order to do this the right way.

Things worked out perfectly. Ron was home and in his room when we apparated into the living room. We went into my bedroom and when we started to get into it, I cast a silencing charm on my partner. Ron’s room was across the hall from mine and I wanted him to hear only me. I put on a real show.

_“Suck my cock. Yes, baby, that’s it.”_

_“Do you like that? Do you want me to fuck you?”_

_“Tell me you want me to fuck you. I want you to beg for it.”_

And when I came, I screamed like it was the best orgasm of my life. It wasn’t, but the thought of Ron listening to me helped put it in the top twenty.

The next morning, after the prop in my little play disapparated from my bedroom, I made my way to the kitchen. I made sure I had that freshly shagged look and was disappointed when I found Hermione in there alone.

“Where’s Ron?” I asked.

“What’s going on?” she said angrily.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“When Ron heard you get up, he apparated out of here like a demon from hell was at his heels!”

“Oh. I might have forgotten to put a silencing charm around my bedroom last night.”

“You brought someone home last night!” 

“Yeah…”

“Fuck, Harry. What’s wrong with you?”

“Nothing is wrong with me! Ron went out with his brothers and I met someone and…”

“That’s not what I’m talking about! I see the way you’ve been looking at Ron. I know that look and I know what you’re thinking. You’re not going to have sex with him and then throw him to the side!” She was furious and a tiny vein in her forehead was popping out.

“Sex with Ron! I don’t know what you are going on about.” I didn’t even bother to try to look innocent. She knew me too well.

“Yes - you - do! I understand Ron looks… well, gorgeous. Hell, if I weren’t with Philip, I’d be thinking about it myself. But, Harry, he’s your best friend.”

“Maybe it’s about more than just a shag.”

Her hands were folded across her chest and I had this sudden vision of Professor McGonagall.

“Is it? Are you sure?”

“No.”

Hermione says, quite often, I don’t think before I act, I have a problem dealing with my feelings and I am a control freak. She is right. I didn’t think about why I wanted to seduce Ron. It just seemed like the natural thing to do. He was hot, I felt a connection, and as far as I was concerned, there was nothing to think about.

Ron may have reacted strange that morning, but when he came back to the flat later that day, he seemed to be relaxed about the situation. He made a few wisecracks about my waking the neighbors and he informed me that he had placed a silencing around his own room in order to get some sleep.

I hadn’t thought of that.

After that morning, Hermione made it a point to not leave us alone for too long, until Valentine’s Day. Philip had made big plans for them and I decided it would be the perfect night to make my big move on Ron.

Ron was moving out at the end of the week and going back to work the following Monday. I knew that it had to be that night. I wasn’t sure what I was going to do, but Ron gave me the perfect setting that morning at breakfast.

“What do you want to do tonight?” I asked him and ignored the disapproving look Hermione was giving me behind his back.

“How about we go to one of those clubs you like to go to?”

“Really? Are you sure?”

“Harry, I’ve been around gay men before,” he said and rolled his eyes at me.

“Okay. There’s a great place in Soho I think you would enjoy. It has a mixed crowd, so maybe you could meet a nice girl or maybe a not-so-nice girl.” 

I nudged his leg under the table and he nudged back with a sly grin on his face.

Hermione’s face was so contorted in anger her own mother wouldn’t have recognized her.

Later that evening, after Hermione and Philip had left on their date, I waited in the kitchen for Ron to finish getting dressed. He was worth the wait. He had on a pair of jeans that I helped him pick out during one of our shopping sprees, a sapphire blue t-shirt, and a black blazer. I started to wonder if bringing him to a club, looking as handsome as he did, was such a good idea.

“Damn, mate. I told you those jeans looked good on you!” I said.

“Harry Potter, you don’t look so bad yourself,” he responded. 

I was appalled at myself for blushing. 

The taxi I had requested showed up on time and we left for the club. It was the perfect place. The first floor is a quiet spot with only one bar and a few booths. Upstairs is the club with a DJ and dancing.

I knew a few people and after saying hello and introducing Ron, I led him to the bar. Ron ordered us two pints of ale and we made small talk with the barman. 

There were a few couples, but since it was Valentine’s Day, there were mostly single gay men and straight women. Quite a few of them were checking us out looking for signs if we were a couple. After a trip to the loo, I came back to find a bloke around our age sitting next to Ron putting the moves on him.

It was the perfect chance to make my own moves. I slid back onto my stool and took Ron’s hand that was resting on the bar.

“Who’s your friend, baby?” I asked.

I thought that was a slick move, but it didn’t seem to faze Ron at all. He didn’t so much as flinch (not even a blush) and played right along with it. He introduced the man, Jack or Jake, and when he introduced me, he said this is _‘My Harry.’_

The bloke, whose name started with a ‘J’, promptly retreated and began trolling the bar for someone else. I held on to Ron’s hand.

“Sorry, about that. You sure you’re okay being here?” I asked.

“Harry, it’s not the first time another man has tried to pick me up.” 

“Oh…” I mumbled.

This is where the night started to get weird. Ron turned to look at me and he started to caress my hand with his thumb. He was looking at me like he wanted to tell me something and I pulled my hand back to call the barman over for more ale.

I know - I know. Why would it get weird? Isn’t that what I wanted? 

We stayed at the bar for an hour or so and I started to get a bit of a buzz. The bass from the music above us was vibrating our seats and I asked Ron if he wanted to go upstairs to dance.

“Dance?” he said and broke out in a huge grin. “I’ll go upstairs, but I don’t dance. You know that.”

“I thought I did, but you’ve changed a lot since I knew you… before, I mean.”

“Yeah, some things have changed, but me and dancing isn’t one of them!”

Upstairs was more crowded than the first floor and I knew a lot more of the people. A few of my friends, cooed approvals of Ron in my ear as we brushed past them. There was only one empty barstool and I insisted Ron take it. Ron ordered us more ale and a shot of whiskey. We toasted his return to London and slammed down the shots. 

I started to get fidgety listening to the music and Ron insisted that I go dance. He assured me that he would be fine, so I searched the dance floor for someone that I knew dancing in a spot that Ron would have a clear view of. 

As luck would have it, I saw two friends in a perfect spot. It not only gave Ron a clear view of me, but was also near a mirror, so I could watch Ron as I danced. 

He never took his eyes off me. His gaze was intense and unrelenting and after while, it started to make me nervous. I began to understand what Hermione was trying to tell me. What would I do after Ron and I shagged? Thank him for the good time and then get him good seats to my next Quidditch match. Or maybe pawn him off on Hermione and Philip while I want prowling around the clubs looking for a quick shag.

I realized this was Ron Weasley I was trying to seduce. Ron who had stood by me through the hardest time in my life, put his life on the line for me, and never let me forget he was my friend even when I didn’t act much like one. We may not have spent the last few years in each other’s pockets, but in my heart, he was still my best friend. Sexual sparks or not, this was not a good idea. I decided to put an end to the game I was playing. 

I left the dance floor and made my way back to Ron. 

Then what I had waited for happened and I never saw it coming. I approached him and as soon as I was within arms reach, he grabbed me by my hips, pulled me between his knees, and kissed me. 

I’ve been kissed before. More times than I care to admit, but I had never been kissed like that. It erased any other kiss I had ever received before. His kiss branded my lips and stained them with the memory of it, so that every kiss after would never be able to live up to it. 

I don’t know what made it so special. It had all of the same components as other kisses - a wet mouth, tongues, lips, and warm breath. It was just different. All the nerves in my lips and mouth were awake and tingling. The rest of my body was frozen and it was as if only my mouth existed. I had forgotten where we were. Hell, I think I had forgotten my own name. I don’t know how long the kiss lasted, but I remember thinking that I never wanted it to end.

When I opened my eyes, I saw Ron’s deep blue eyes looking back at me filled with lust and longing. My hands were on his forearms and I couldn’t remember when I had put them there. He moved a hand to the back of my head, tangled his fingers in my hair, leaned forward, and whispered in my ear, “I’m going to take you home and make love to you, and I promise you will forget everything but me.”

A feeling of panic rushed through my body. LOVE. This was only supposed to be about sex, not love. What was I thinking? Right, I was thinking with my dick. 

I had to talk to him. I couldn’t let this ruin our friendship.

“Ron… I…”

“Don’t tell me you don’t want this, Harry. I know you do,” he said. His voice was deep and throaty and I felt the start of a tingling in my crotch.

“No, it’s not that. It’s just… it’s us. I don’t know. Maybe, we should date first.”

I have no idea where that suggestion came from. 

Ron gave me a small smile. “Isn’t that what we’ve been doing for the past few weeks?”

“What are you saying? You wanted this to happen before tonight?”

“From the moment I saw you standing there in nothing but a towel,” he replied.

That right, bloody bastard! I was so busy seducing him that I didn’t even notice he was seducing me… Or was it courting me. 

And then… fuck… he started kissing me again. This time the feeling from the kiss traveled from my mouth to the rest of my body. His arms circled around my waist and my body betrayed me. Despite all of the doubts and fears in my mind, I melted in his arms. 

I pulled away from the second kiss.

“I have so many questions,” I murmured. One very important one - Was this his first time with another man?

“We’ll talk in the morning,” he said and ran his tongue along my earlobe.

I really love that. 

“I usually don’t do mornings with anybody.”

He pulled his face back and glared at me. “I’m not just anybody.”

I didn’t respond. I didn’t know what to say. The past two weeks had been great and there was no doubt that I wanted him to fuck me into the middle of next week…. But a relationship! 

That was another thing; I wanted HIM to fuck ME. I knew from his kiss he wanted to do exactly that, but I was shocked it was what I wanted, too. I had never wanted anyone to dominate me. There were a few drunken nights that I had given in to someone and allowed them to do it, but the last time had been years ago. 

Ron must have sensed my doubts, because he said, “Relax, Harry, let’s just get through tonight.”

“I don’t want our friendship to change.”

“Too late.”

He was right. How could we go back to being friends? The sexual tension would hang in the air whenever we were together. Our separation for the past four years wouldn’t help the situation either. 

He stood up and kissed me again. This time he embraced me firmly and pressed his body against mine. His tongue licked my bottom lip and I moaned. Bugger! Where had he learned to kiss like that and why did he keep making me lose control of the situation?

I must have had an incredibly daft look on my face when we broke, because when I opened my eyes he was grinning at me.

“I guess that settles that then. Shall we go?” he said and took my hand.

What could I do?

We found a quiet small street and disapparated back to the flat. Part of me was wishing Hermione was home and the other part was ready to banish her if she was.

I hate being a Wizard sometimes, because your magic can really betray you and expose your desires. I had intended to apparate into the living room, but found I had landed in my bedroom. 

Ron apparated in a few seconds after me. My mouth moved to say something, but he didn’t give me the chance. Ron had me pressed me into the bedroom door. He removed my glasses and held them in his hand as his mouth did amazing things to my neck. His hand found it’s way under my jumper, and I shivered into his caress. For the life of me, I couldn’t even remember what it was I wanted to say. 

I must’ve been holding my breath, because Ron whispered, “Breathe... I’m not going to hurt you.”

I don’t know what was wrong with me. I had acted like a virgin on my wedding night! 

I don’t remember how we wound up shirtless and on my bed, but we did and he was lying on top of me with his erection pressing into my thigh. I was rock hard and my cock was aching to be released from my jeans.

Our bodies were so close together and I couldn’t tell if the moans and pleas were his or mine. I kept losing myself in his touch, but then it would start to feel like I was falling, and I would snap back to reality. Each time I did, he seemed to sense it and found another one of my trigger points to help me lose myself again.

Ron is completely at ease with his body. He’s strong and masculine, but his movements were graceful as he stripped us both of our jeans and knickers.

Every touch, kiss, lick, nibble and bite felt as though it had a greater meaning behind it. Ron worked his way around my body as if I was an instrument and he was playing me. I felt like I was being worshipped. If I hadn’t been so caught up in a crazed state of hormonal frenzy, I probably would have bolted from the room. 

He took his time preparing me. He used the lubricant I had given him from my bed stand and his fingers swiftly found the spot that makes me squirm. My body trembled as his fingers moved inside of me, stretching me, and pressing on my prostrate while his other hand massaged my balls and his tongue played with my navel. 

At that point, I was fairly sure this was not his first time with a man.

His chest was leaning against my cock and when he lifted himself up, I could see my pre-come glistening on his chest hair, and I reached out and twirled the wet hairs around my finger.

“Are you ready for me?” he groaned in my ear.

I was trying to say ‘yes.’ I heard it in my head, but nothing but a whimper came out, so I nodded my head.

“Here,” he said handing me the tube of lubricant. “You do it.”

He knelt between my legs and I poured the slippery lotion on his erection and used both hands to spread it up and down his shaft. His cock felt massive and hard and I wanted to play with it for hours. He shuddered when I rubbed my thumb along the head. I didn’t think he could get any harder, but he did. 

He grabbed my wrists and pulled my hands away. I started to roll onto my stomach, but he stopped me.

“No.” He whispered and took a pillow, placed it under my pelvis, and I pulled my knees to my chest.

Ron rubbed the head of his cock at my entrance and I held my breath waiting. He slid into me slowly and the amazing feeling of him inside of me overshadowed the uncomfortable burning. I wish I could put into words what it felt like when he finally entered me. It was probably only an hour since he first kissed me, but I felt like I had been waiting for him to be inside me for years. 

But that wasn’t possible. I swear to Merlin, I had never thought of Ron in any sexual way before. 

When he was fully inside of me, he pushed my knees down and spread my legs. He leaned down and began to move, slowly, using only small thrusts. 

It was all so surreal. I felt as if it wasn’t happening to me and I was only watching it happen to someone else. My mind started to race with thoughts of what was going to happen when we were done. Go back to being friends? Date? Become fuck buddies? Was he still going to move out? Did I want him to stay?

I closed my eyes afraid I would give away what I was feeling. 

“Harry, open your eyes.”

He had stopped moving and when I opened my eyes, he was inches away from my face.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“Nothing,” I said and turned my face to divert my eyes from his gaze. 

He leaned down and kissed my cheek.

“It’s okay. We can stop if you want,” he said.

STOP! I didn’t want him to stop. I started to feel myself panic. I didn’t know what I wanted, but I didn’t want him to stop or to leave me. 

I reached up with both hands and pulled him to my lips. I kissed him gently on the lips and said desperately, “Please, don’t stop.”

“Let go, baby. Let yourself go for me,” he whispered back.

Then he pulled himself out of me and began to leave a trail of kisses down my chest and stomach. He pushed two fingers inside of me and kissed the head of my cock. Pre-come leaked from the tip and he lovingly licked it off. A moan caught in my throat.

While his fingers massaged my prostrate, his mouth engulfed my cock. My hands clenched and unclenched the sheets. He was able to take almost my entire shaft into his hot, wet mouth. He was circling his tongue around my throbbing erection on each upward motion. 

At that point, I was positively sure he had been with another man before, and to my surprise, I felt a twinge of jealousy.

I was fighting it. I didn’t want to lose control of my body. I was afraid my emotions would soon follow.

He released me from his mouth and began, very slowly, massaging my cock with his hand while gently licking the head. The contrast between his rugged hands and his soft tongue had my cock as hard as it could possibly get.

“Oh gods, that feels so fucking good.” 

I didn’t even realize I was talking, until Ron said, “That’s it, baby. Tell me how good it feels.” 

In spite of myself, I began to beg him to suck me again. He did and this time he did the most wonderful, incredible thing. He was moaning and humming as he sucked and the vibrations were extraordinary. Every nerve in my body felt like they were being hit with jolts of electricity and I felt my balls tighten as my orgasm began to build, but he felt it, too. He stopped and lightly blew cool air on my cock and balls. I froze. It felt so good it hurt. 

“Ron, please, please, don’t stop,” I begged. 

He removed his fingers from inside me. “Roll over,” he growled. I could hear he was almost as far-gone as I was.

I rolled on to my stomach and he slid his cock into me all the way to the hilt. Then he put his beautiful, powerful arms around my chest and simultaneously tucked his legs underneath him as he pulled me on his lap. My legs were flanking his and he was holding me tight to his chest. He was biting and licking at the back of my neck and his cock was pressing directly on that perfect spot. I was completely out of my mind and I began to ride his cock with deep, hard thrusts.

Ron’s hand moved down to my cock, and he began pumping me matching his strokes to the same rhythm I was using to impale myself on his cock.

“Fuck, Harry. So… good. You feel… so fuckin’ good.” He panted into my neck and the sound of his deep and sultry voice so filled with excitement for me was all the extra stimulation that I needed to push me over the edge. I threw my head back onto his shoulder, reached behind me with both hands and entwined my fingers into his hair as I came, hard and what seemed like forever, all over his fist. 

As my orgasm swept over me, Ron held me and kissed my face and neck. When I was done, I went limp in his arms and he eased me down onto the bed. I turned my face to him and pulled his lips to mine. I ravished his mouth with my tongue, grabbed a hold of his hands, and mingled our fingers together. 

He thrusts became harder and more frantic and I could feel his heart pounding against my back.

“Come for me, love,” I whispered to him.

It was exactly what he needed to hear. He lifted himself off my back and started to fuck me with wild abandonment as his sighing moans filled the room. I knew he was close and I clenched my muscles around him. Ron stiffened, screamed my name, and then his come exploded hot and hard inside of me. 

He collapsed next to me and I wasn’t sure what to do next. I turned my head to look at him, he was facing me, and when I saw him my heart stopped. He was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen.

Ron’s so unbelievably, fucking, gorgeous naked. His upper body enthralled me. His body is so real. His shoulders are wide, his chest is firm, and his arms… Oh gods, his arms are thick and muscular with a fabulous coating of beautiful red hair and attached to them are the most erotic, rugged hands I had ever felt caress my body.

Without thinking about it, I brushed his fringe away from his eyes and he smiled at me.

“Hi, Harry,” he said.

“Hi, Ron.” I smiled back at him.

“Hold on, we need to get cleaned up.” He got out of bed and removed his wand from his jeans pocket.

He jumped back in bed, cast a cleansing spell on both of us, and then slipped his wand under his pillow.

“You had some questions,” he said.

“Mmm… to tired,” I mumbled. 

He laid on his back and pulled my head unto his shoulder. 

“Me too,” he said and kissed the top of my forehead.

The last conscious thought I had before I fell asleep was that he had kept his promise. I had forgotten about everything but him.

**Part 2 of 3**


	3. Bound

  
Author's notes: Ron returns to London after a four year absence and Harry see him in a whole new light.  


* * *

**_Part Three - Bound_ **

For the first time in years, I didn’t have to struggle to remember the man’s name that was lying beside me when I awoke. It was Ron. My mind wandered to the list of men’s names that I could remember, and found it odd that out of all of them, I had never slept with a man named Ron before. It’s not like it’s an uncommon name. I had even slept with a bloke named Harry once, but no Ron’s.

My eyes were closed, but I could tell that it was light out. We were both lying on our sides with Ron spooning me. I opened my eyes and looked down at the superb forearm stretched over me and then I studied his hand. I’ve always had a thing for hands. They tell a lot about a person. Ron’s hands said a lot about him. They were extremely masculine and anyone that looked at them could see if they were balled up into a fist, they would deliver a wicked punch. The tips of his fingers were flat and broad, but the nails were well kept. They were clean and smooth. His hands were a lot like the way he made love to me the night before.

Then I looked at my own hands. The hands that could snatch a fly in the air without even looking at it. They were slim and fragile with nails that had been chewed down too far. 

A gentle kiss on my shoulder had aroused me from my thoughts. 

“Morning,” Ron whispered.

“Morning.”

“Sleep well?”

“Yeah. You?”

“Yes.”

“Would you like some breakfast?” I wasn’t hungry, but it seemed like the thing to say.

“Not right now. I kind of like this.” He pulled me closer to him and nuzzled my neck. 

My body tensed and I cursed myself in my head. I didn’t want to hurt his feelings. It wasn’t that I didn’t like feeling him so close to me. I did, but it felt unusual.

He didn’t mention the change in my body language he just continued to hold me and we were quiet for a few minutes.

“Harry, you had some questions.” He said and took my hand.

“Well, yeah… sort of.” I was thankful for our positions on the bed. I didn’t want to look at him while we had this conversation. “I was just unsure… if you’d ever….”

“Shagged a man before last night?” he interjected.

“Yeah.”

“Yes, I have.”

“Really?” I said softly and received another unexpected pang of jealousy at the thought of him with another man.

“I never said it was a woman that Meghan found me in bed with.”

“Fuck…” I whispered. “She caught you with a man? Was he your first?”

“No. There were others.”

“So, did you realize you were gay while you were with her?” 

“I like women, too. Though I do have to say I prefer sleeping with men.”

“Oh…” I paused. “Did you ever… before I mean… when we were…” 

I was certainly not the most articulate at that moment. 

“Think of you this way before I left for Ireland?”

“Yeah.”

“That answer is a bit complex. Was I walking around with a hard-on for you? No. Did I know that what I felt for you was different than an ordinary friendship? Yes.”

He stopped and I knew I should probably say something, but I didn’t know what to say.

He continued when I didn’t respond. “Didn’t you ever wonder why I didn’t act on the crush I had on Hermione?”

“Sure.”

“Because I didn’t want to exclude you. I wanted her. Bad. But I didn’t want you to feel left out. If I hadn’t been so young and stupid, I might have been able to figure it out then,” he said. 

“And you didn’t know until you came home?” 

“No, I knew before then. The Ministry trains Aurors to become attuned to their feelings and subconscious. Sound mind to go along with a sound body is their belief. After I came to terms with my attraction to men, I realized how I felt about you.”

“Oh…”

“It’s okay, Harry. You don’t have to say anything.” He was still holding my hand and he kept squeezing it. It felt reassuring and I begun to feel more comfortable.

“Yeah, I do.” I took a deep breath and hoped my voice didn’t quiver. “I missed you.”

“I missed you, too. It’ been a lot longer than four years.”

I knew what he meant. I had left him long before he physically left.

“You understand though… right? Why I… What I was having a hard time with?” That time my voice did shake.

“Of course, I do.” He hugged me closer. “And despite what Hermione tells you, I think you’ve dealt with it pretty well. Except for the fact that you fucked that bloody Ferret!”

I started to laugh and he did too. I rolled around to face him. 

“Are you going to hold that over my head for the rest of our lives?” I said poking him in the stomach.

“Yup!” he replied smiling at me.

“Can I tell you something? I’ve been dying to tell someone this for years, but I couldn’t tell Hermione and you and her are the only ones that know about me and Malfoy.”

“What?” he said. His face was filled with curiosity.

I added to the drama by whispering my secret. “Malfoy cries when he comes.”

“You mean cries out or cries with real tears?” he asked in the same hushed voice I used.

“Cries with tears!” 

Ron rolled over on his back and his laughter bounced off the walls. My heart filled with longing looking at him naked and beautiful with his face lit up in amusement. I moved in closer to him and my hand began to massage his chest as my tongue explored his ear.

“Harry, does thinking about Malfoy, and his tears, turn you on?” he said teasingly.

“No, your fucking gorgeous body does.” I replied throwing my leg over him and continuing my tongue assault on his ear.

The next few minutes happened so fast I wish I had a time-turner so I could go back and replay it over and over. The door to my bedroom banged open and before I could even process what was happening Ron was out of bed with his wand in his hand pointing it at a very frightened looking Hermione. I never did ask her what scared her more - seeing her best friend standing there naked with his wand and his erection pointing at her or almost being blasted into the flat next door by a very powerful Auror.

“What the fuck, Hermione?” I screamed. Her mouth moved, but nothing came out.

“Hermione, don’t ever do that again,” Ron said coolly and firmly. “The next time my reflexes might not be so good.”

Her response was nothing more than a squeak and she turned and ran down the hallway.

Ron closed the door and got back into bed.

“Wow! That’ll teach her to burst in on a horny Auror!” I said.

“I knew it was her. I knew she was here the second she entered the flat. Thought it would be a good way to teach her a lesson about minding her own business.”

“You have no idea how much she deserved that! I’m sure it wasn’t just your wand she was afraid of!” I said and reached over and grabbed his cock to show him exactly what I was talking about.

“As long as you’re not afraid of it,” he replied lustfully.

“Hmm, maybe, just a little...” I replied in a teasing voice. “I think I need to spend time getting to know it better.”

Ron’s breathing increased as I slowly worked my hand up and down his shaft. “I think he likes me,” I said as I moved between Ron’s legs to get a better look at my new friend.

It truly was a magnificent site, looking at Ron sprawled out in front of me. Desire kidnapped my mind and I wanted to spend all day playing with his body. I wanted to hear him repeatedly screaming my name, because he couldn’t get enough of me. 

I wanted my fantasy. I grabbed his wand, whispered a binding spell, and silk robes sprang from my bed and wrapped around his wrists.

“Oh, gods, Harry…” he moaned.

He struggled against the ropes and I slithered up to his face. “Now, now. Relax. You’re all mine until I say so.”

Ron groaned and I felt more blood rush to my own cock that was pressed against his. I moved my mouth to his nipples and licked one with the tip of my tongue until it was stiff and then I gently nipped it with my teeth. Ron’s hips bucked and I felt his warm and sticky pre-come on my stomach. I licked, sucked, and nibbled at one nipple as my fingers played with the other. Ron seemed to be keeping his composure, but I could feel his heart throbbing against his chest and I knew it was an act. It only made me want to tease him more. 

My tongue started in the hollow of his chest and left a trail of saliva down to his navel. I was careful not to rest my chest on his erection and I felt him lifting his hips to try to press it against my body.

I sat up on my knees, roughly spread his legs wider, and using his wand again, bound his thighs to the bed.

“You bloody tease,” he hissed.

Before I put his wand away, I used it one more time to place a silencing charm on the room. 

“I think Hermione’s had enough trauma for one day,” I said hovering above his cock, which looked painfully hard. “I plan to make you scream.”

“And how do you plan on do…” Ron stopped as I ran my tongue down the length of his rock hard erection. 

“Oh… like that,” he whispered.

I watched his cock as I sucked and licked his balls. It was oozing pre-come and twitching each time I touched him. His thick thighs looked so delicious and I moved my hands up and down them, feeling the strong muscles and silky hair beneath my palms. 

The shimmering puddle of pre-come on his stomach caught my eye and I gently lifted his cock to lick it from his stomach. I let the bitter tasting liquid sit on the tip of my tongue and I looked at him to see if he was watching. He was and I licked my lips, spreading the taste onto them. I moved up to him and kissed him so he could taste himself on my lips. His moan filled my mouth.

I moved back down ready to tease his some more. I placed the base of his cock between my thumb and forefinger and lifted his cock towards my mouth. I slipped the head slowly between my lips and ran my tongue in circles around the rim. Ron began to squirm and make grunting noises. 

As I continued my tempting maneuvers on the head of his cock, I lazily ran my finger up and down the soft spot of flesh under his balls.

“Fucking hell, Harry,” Ron groaned.

I gave him a small taste of what he wanted. I took his thick, rock hard shaft into my mouth as far as it would go.

“Oh… y-y-yes… t-t-t-hat’s it…” Ron cried.

On the upstroke, I ran my thumb along the underside of the shaft directly below me lips.

I removed my mouth and lightly fingered the rim and slit. 

“H-h-harry… shit… please don’t stop sucking me,” he said. He was panting and his face was beat red.

I wet my finger and rimmed his entrance as I gave his cock a long, strong lick.

“Do you want me to suck you or fuck you?” I asked.

“Both,” he whimpered.

“Sorry, love, you’re going to have to pick one.”

“Come up here,” he ordered.

I positioned myself to hover over him and met his eyes.

“Fuck me, Harry,” he said forcefully.

I didn’t need to hear it twice. I found the tube of lubricant on the floor and poured some on my fingers. My slick fingers rubbed his entrance until he begged me for more. I slipped a finger inside very slowly and smiled when he threw his head back and moaned. I added the second and third finger much quicker and stretched him until he told me he was ready for me.

I kneeled between his legs and spread the lube on my own painfully hard cock. He was watching me with lust-filled eyes as I stroked my fist over my shaft preparing myself for him.

“I could come just watching you do that,” he said in a hoarse voice.

“We’ll save that for another time.” I released the binds around his legs and pressed the head of my cock against his entrance. 

I slid in only the head to below the rim and waited for him to relax. When I felt his muscles accept me, I pushed myself completely in and then pulled back again. I did this a few times, until Ron was squirming and struggling at the ropes around his wrist. 

“Harry… fuck me, please,” he said through gritted teeth.

I maneuvered my cock inside him, looking for that perfect spot and when I hit it - he swore and wrapped his legs around my waist. The position was too much for me and my own passion won out over my desire to tease him. I began to pound into him as his hips thrust upward to meet me on every stroke.

“Yessss, Harry. Oh gods… I’m gonna fuckin’ come,” he screamed. 

I placed my hands under him and grabbed his arse so I could pull him towards me harder and faster. I hit his prostrate as hard as I could. 

I watched Ron’s cock as his orgasm ripped through him. Come shot from his cock in six spurts and fell over his stomach and chest. It was such an erotic site that I felt my own orgasm building. I fucked him hard and furious until my own balls tightened and my orgasm ripped through my cock and filled Ron with my searing fluid. 

Breathless and feeling boneless, I fell onto his sweaty stomach. When I regained some of my senses, I began to lap the come off of his stomach and chest. 

“I like that much better than a cleaning spell,” he said softly. I murmured my agreement into his flesh.

“Harry?”

“Yes.’

“Are you going to unbind me anytime soon?”

I pushed myself up on my arms and grinned at him. 

“Maybe, maybe not.”

“Keep doing what you just did and I might not mind so much,” he said with a wicked look in his eyes.

“You liked?”

“Are you kidding me? It was fucking incredible!” 

I kissed him as my hands fumbled with the binds. His arms encircled me as soon as he was free and we kissed until we needed to stop for air.

“So, what are we going to do today?” he asked.

“Ron, I…”

“You don’t have to say it. I know you love me,” he said with a teasing voice.

“That’s not what I was going to say,” I snapped back, but with a grin on me face. “I… I need to take this slow.”

“What do you want, Harry?” He asked looking in my eyes.

“I don’t know.” I said and diverted my eyes to his chest.

“Don’t know or afraid to want it?” 

“I don’t know the difference.”

“What do you want right now?”

“I want to lay naked in bed with you.”

“Good. That’s how we’ll take this. One moment at a time. Slowly. I promise,” he said and lifted my face into another long kiss. 

Ron moved out as scheduled and we continued to date. He kept his promise to take things slowly, but to my surprise, I hated it. The nights he wasn’t with me I would lay awake, tossing and turning in my bed, wondering what he was doing. A month after our first night together, he went away on an assignment for a week and I drove Hermione mad with my moping around the flat. I shocked my teammates by declining their invitations to prowl around whatever city we were visiting, because after each match, I would leave immediately and fly home directly to Ron’s flat. 

Two weeks before Hermione’s wedding, I asked him to move in with me. It took him no longer than a second to say ‘What took you so long?’

I guess you could say this all happened very slowly. It took thirteen years for me to fall in love with Ron Weasley and another six months for me to tell him so, but once I did - everything changed.

**FIN**

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